


Strike Your Colors (and Show Your Loyalty to the Captain)

by therighteouswriter



Series: A Pirate's Life for Me [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Biting, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Mild Language, Name-Calling, Ownership, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therighteouswriter/pseuds/therighteouswriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I hope this is to your liking, lovely! <3 ENJOY!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Strike Your Colors (and Show Your Loyalty to the Captain)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkSun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSun/gifts).



> I hope this is to your liking, lovely! <3 ENJOY!

Captain Dean Winchester

 

The mere whisper of that name was enough to chill one straight to the bone with fear. That name was synonymous with chaos, pain, death. A man of youth, just twenty two years old, Dean Winchester had earned himself a reputation as one of the most dangerous, cut throat pirates to ever sail the Caribbean Sea. Known for his excellent swordsmanship, at the ripe young age of eighteen, Dean defeated his former captain in a duel; succeeding him to become the youngest captain the Zeppelin had ever seen. He and his crew made a living running down merchant ships and looting them for all they were worth. Rumor had it that if Winchester and his crew boarded your ship, it was guaranteed that by the time they were done round up what they wanted, you’d be off to see Davy Jones whether you had put up a fight or not. People said Dean was crazy, blood thirsty, a cold hearted killer. He was wanted by His majesty’s navy, and feared by all.

 

Except one.

 

Sam Winchester was not, and could never be, afraid of Dean. He knew deep in his heart that the monstrosity rumors and legends had painted his big brother to be wasn’t actually a reflection of who Dean _really_ was. Dean Winchester, the murderous, thieving pirate was not the Dean Winchester he knew. The Dean Winchester who’d left home all those years ago, determined to find work so he could support Sam when their parents had passed; their sudden and tragic deaths leaving the two boys orphaned at twelve and sixteen.

 

No, Sam only knew the warm, loving Dean Winchester. The man who sent him half his spoils from each job he pulled, who visited him whenever he could just to check on his little brother. The man who **never** passed up an opportunity to come home to see Sam on his birthday. The man who would always write him if for some reason he would be stuck at sea longer than he’d anticipated.

 

That was the real Dean Winchester as far as Sam was concerned. Selfless, righteous, and unbelievably kind.

 

Or at least that’s how Sam felt up until his fifteen birthday when the perfect mental imagine he’d painted of his brother was torn to shreds and lit on fire. That had been the first year Dean didn’t make it home for his birthday. He’d had the decency to write that year, at least, to tell Sam how sorry he was for missing such a special occasion. However, when his sixteenth birthday came and went with no word from Dean, Sam started to get _worried_.

 

That was when his brother started to just send money. No letters. Only a package with enough loot to keep Sam housed, clothed, and feed. And when Dean let his little brother’s seventeenth birthday pass without so much as a nod of acknowledgement, Sam got **mad**. No, better yet, he became downright livid. He was hurt, and alone, and God help him, but he started to believe that maybe, just maybe, the rumors were true. Perhaps Dean Winchester really was a monster.

 

 

 

**_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*_ **

****

****

 

 

**Barbados May 2, 1716 (West Indies region)**

When Sam returned home from his friend’s house that evening after having celebratory tea in honor of his birthday, he was startled to find that his front door was unlocked, and slightly ajar. Heartbeat quickening, he climbed his front steps, peeking his head inside cautiously. At first sight, nothing seemed to be out of place or missing, so Sam quietly slipped inside, closing the door behind him as softly as possible. Walking over to the living area, Sam struggled to retrace his steps from that morning, wondering if he’d somehow forgotten to shut and lock the door behind him on his way out.

 

No, he’d locked up, he was sure of it. The whole situation was so strange though. All of his valuables were still in place, and he didn’t keep large sums of money in the house for safety reasons, so if someone had broken in to rob him they either didn’t like their options or didn’t have time to collect what they’d come for.

 

Unless…

 

Suddenly, a light bulb went on over Sam’s head, his body beginning to shake at the possibility of his epiphany being true. Moving as quickly as he feet would allow, Sam rushed down the hall to the dining room. He skidded around the corner, partially tripping over himself as he dashed through the open door, heart doing double time in his chest when he stumbled into the room to find his brother sitting at the head of the table.

 

Dean was there. His brother was **actually** there. This was real. Not some elaborate fantasy he’d concocted in his mind while he lay awake at night, sad and lonely; missing his brother so badly that his heart ached. No, Dean had really come to him, after three years, he was there, on Sam’s eighteenth birthday.

 

With his mind racing, Sam could only stare at the man before him, completely at a loss for words. His brother was lounging in one of the large wooden chairs that surrounded the dining table, feet propped up on the edge of the structure like he didn’t have a care in the world. He was wearing a threadbare white cotton shirt, one size too big; long, muscular legs well-defined in skintight leather pants. There was a black belt around his waist with a large, shiny buckle visible where he’d tucked his shirt behind it, the strap serving as a holster for the beautifully crafted, gold handled sword that hung at his left hip. Dean’s hair was a mess, windblown and damp with mist off the sea, green eyes bright as ever as they regarded Sam with love, his sinfully plush lips slowly spreading into a wide smile.

 

“Heya Sammy.”

 

Sam remained still, feet rooted to the floor as Dean stood from his seat, opening his arms wide, beckoning his little brother toward him. The sight killed Sam, and it was all he could do not to rush forward and throw his arms around Dean, to be safe and warm in his big brother’s embrace.

 

“Dean,” Sam gritted out, a sharp pain shooting across his chest when the smile faded from Dean’s face; his brother dropping his arms in defeat as he studied the younger boy curiously.

 

“…I must say little brother, that’s not the welcome home I expected after three years.”

 

“Aye _Captain_ ,” the younger boy snarled as he bowed mockingly. “It has been three years. Three painful, long, lonely years without a word from you. What exactly **were** you expecting, Dean? Your adoring little brother to welcome you home with open arms after years of neglect? Well, I’m afraid you’ve come all this way to be disappointed.”

 

Sam couldn’t look Dean in the eyes as he verbally assaulted him, knowing all too well that if he focused too hard on his brother’s hurt expression he would lose his nerve. Honestly, he hated being cruel to Dean, but he couldn’t help it. For the last three years his anger had eaten away at him, torn up his insides, and left him ruined. There was no way he could just pretend like Dean hadn’t abandoned him at the first taste of infamy. No matter how much he wished he could forgive his brother.

 

“Is that what you truly think? That I just abandoned you without cause?” Dean asked as he took a step forward, stopping dead in his tracks when Sam flinched away from him violently; the wounded look in his eyes making the younger boy immediately regret his action.

 

“And why should I believe any different? You’re _Captain Dean Winchester_ , after all. You’re the most fearsome pirate these waters have ever seen.”

 

Sam hurled the words at Dean like a punch. And by the stunned, hurt look on his big brother’s face he was sure they had hit their mark.

 

“How can you say that? You, of all people. I’m your brother, Sam.”

 

“You’re a distant memory! A stranger standing before me, looking like the man who used to love me. You’re nothing but a name now. Your reputation is all I know you by…That being said, is it really so outrageous for me to think that you could have lost your ability to care for me like you have lost your humanity?”

 

In a flash, Dean marched across the room and was now standing in front of Sam, invading his personal space. So close the younger boy could smell the warm, spicy scent of his brother’s cologne; could see his flawless freckled skin, smooth and sun-kissed; those beautiful green eyes of his blazing with anger. Dean’s breath was ragged, chest heaving as he stared at Sam for what seemed like an eternity, the air between them electric, full of rage and passion.

 

“Pray tell, little brother,” Dean asked agitatedly, finally breaking the tense silence between them, “What has led you to believe that I’ve lost my humanity? Who’s been filling your head with such lies?”

 

“The whole town knows of your heinous acts at sea, Dean…and…William says anyone as cruel as you can’t possibly be human.”

 

Before he had time to defend himself, or could even register what was happening, Dean brought his right palm across Sam’s cheek, slapping the younger boy with enough force to make his head swim. Stumbling backward, he had just enough time to give his brother an indignant look, hand instinctively coming up to touch the flushed, welted skin on his face, before Dean was shoving him against the nearest wall; body hitting the wood with a loud thud.

 

“William, is it?” Dean snarled, rough calloused hands coming up to cup both sides of Sam’s neck, holding him in place. “And you’d believe this… _boy_ over your own flesh and blood?”

 

“William is a member of His majesty’s Royal Artillery. He’s a gentleman. Respected and honorable. And he’d never abandon me without cause or explanation!”

 

Sam didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a hot, wet tear roll down his throbbing cheek; the salty droplet gliding over the outline of Dean’s handprint. A broken sobbed escaped his lips as he closed both fists, pounding on his brother’s chest in anguish.

 

“Sammy, please,” the older man whispered, grabbing his brother by the wrists to hold him still. “I never meant to hurt you, little brother…but you have to understand, I’m a wanted man. I’ve got the Navy on my ass and I’ve got enemies. Sick, twisted men that would use you as leverage against me if they ever found out how much you mean to me.”

 

Sam couldn’t breathe. All of a sudden, it felt like he was drowning. He could hear his brother’s words, understood the gravity and truth of their meaning, but he couldn’t respond, couldn’t even think.

 

He had been so wretched to Dean. Made it clear that he thought the worst of him. God, he’d been so selfish. Sam had stood there and denied his brother’s love, claiming Dean was a monster when the whole time his big brother had been protecting him from the real monsters.

 

And worst of all? Sam didn’t even true believe what he’d been saying. Deep in his heart he knew Dean wasn’t capable of just tossing him aside like that, but he was young, and his feeling had been hurt, so he had let others fill his head with nonsense. He’d let himself believe that there wasn’t anything more to Dean than his thirst for treasure and his urge to kill when he knew first hand that there was. That there was **so** much more to his brother.

 

“Dean…I-Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Sam cried as he threw his arms around Dean’s neck, jumping up to wrap his legs around his brother’s waist; the older man sliding his hands under Sam’s thighs, holding him steady. Just like when they were younger. It was familiar, comforting. Causing Sam’s heart to swell and ache all at the same time. The feeling of being held by his brother once again utterly wonderful, but also bittersweet.

 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby boy, I’ve got you.”

 

Sam could feel Dean’s lips, soft and sweet, against his hair, kissing him as he buried his face in the crook of the older man’s neck. He was vaguely aware that his brother had begun to walk at that point, his sobs muffled by Dean’s skin as he carried Sam off. Laying him down on his bed a few minutes later, peppering kisses across his wet, flushed cheeks.

 

“Please don’t leave me.”

 

A grimace flickered across Dean’s face when he leaned back to stand up, the sound of Sam’s broken sobs filling the small, dimly lit bedroom as the younger boy tried desperately to stop crying.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, Sammy,” Dean promised, walking down to the end of the bed in order to remove Sam’s shoes.

 

And once he was done, Dean pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor; removing his boots next, then quickly unbuckling his belt before laying his sword across the top of Sam’s dresser.

 

Sam watched quietly as his brother undressed, butterflies swarming around in his stomach when Dean finally got into bed with him; the younger boy turning to face his brother, both wrapping their arms around each other’s middles, foreheads pressed together firmly.

 

“I’ve missed you so much, Dean.”

 

The younger boy could feel his brother’s warm breath against his lips, heat from his body setting his skin on fire as they lay there holding one another. So close it was as though their bodies were fused together. Looking into each other’s eyes like they’d never seen anything quite like the sight before them.

 

“And I missed you, baby boy. Every second of every day we were apart.”

 

A goofy smile lit up Sam’s face as he reached forward to cup his brother’s freckle dusted cheek in his palm. Gently rubbing his thumb over Dean’s warm, velvety smooth flesh. Sam then pressed his lips against Dean’s timidly, the kiss innocent and unsure until he felt his brother respond; the older man’s hands roaming all over his body, desperate to touch every inch of him.

 

Letting out a loud, needy moan, Sam rocked his hips forward, grinding his semi-hard cock against Dean’s when he felt his brother’s hand settle on his ass, grip tight enough to bruise. He licked at Dean’s bottom lip coyly, the older man immediately opening his mouth to grant him access; both boys fighting for dominance over the kiss. They swirled their tongues together, licking and sucking at each other’s mouths, teeth leaving marks on their lips in a heated clash.

 

“Tell me, Sammy,” Dean panted, suddenly pulling away from his little brother, lips swollen and glossy. “Did **_William_** ever make you feel as good as I’m making you feel right now?” he asked, tone venomous. His contempt evident on every syllable of the word William.

 

Sam gasped when he felt Dean yanking on his shirt, roughly pulling the cotton material over his head and throwing it to the floor to join his. He let his brother push him onto his back, fingers threading into the older man’s hair as he leaned down, wrapping his lips around Sam’s left nipple. Dean flicked his tongue over the sensitive tissue, teeth grazing the nub as Sam wiggled beneath him, goosebumps erupting across his skin; cock throbbing against the wool of his breeches as a long, warm clear bead of pre-cum slid down the shaft.

 

“He never touched me, Dean,” Sam mewled, hips canting off the bed when he felt his brother palming at his rock hard cock; Dean’s mouth now laying assault to his right nipple. “I’ve never let anyone touch me like this. Only you, big brother.”

 

“ _Good_ ,” the older man growled before biting down hard on the patch of skin just above his heart, causing Sam to scream; the mark throbbing for a moment, pain slowly fading into pleasure. “…because you’re **mine** , Sam. And if I ever see or hear about another man putting his hands on you, I’ll slit his throat.”

 

“I’d never let that happened, big brother. I’m yours. I only want you.”

 

Dean let out another possessive growl upon hearing Sam’s declaration, quickly sitting up to tug off the younger boy’s breeches and discarding them on the floor without a second thought. A shiver ran up Sam’s spine when the cool air hit his flushed, pulsing cock, tip glossy and wet against his belly.

 

“God, look at you,” Dean whispered, pupils blown wide with lust as he ran his eyes over Sam’s naked body from head to toe; the younger boy blushing under such an admiring gaze.

 

“Dean, **please** , I need you.”

 

Sam’s skin was humming with anticipation; pleasure bubbling up in the pit of his stomach just from the way his brother was looking at him. Just from knowing how bad Dean wanted him.

 

“You have me, Sammy. Now and forever.”

 

The younger boy let out a hiss of pleasure when Dean wrapped his hand around his aching cock, grip tight as he jerked him slowly, giving the head a gentle twist at the end of every stroke. Sam rolled his hips, fucking into his brother’s fist, moaning and gripping the sheets beneath him when Dean circled his thumb over the slit. His brother’s palm was soaked with pre-cum as continued stroking Sam, the younger boy nearly losing his mind when Dean leaned down between his legs, sloppy wet tongue sliding across his balls.

 

“Oh God, Dean…I- I want more, please!”

 

Sam was a babbling mess. Absentmindedly, he lifted up his legs so that they were bent at the knees, giving his brother a better angle. He could feel Dean’s mouth on him, humming against his sack, the action driving him crazy with need.

 

“What do you need, baby boy? Tell me,” Dean asked, cocky smile on his face as he sat up, still stroking Sam’s cock but lazily now, barely enough pressure for the younger boy to get any really sensation out of it.

 

“I want…” Sam mumbled, struggling to find his words, so mad with want he could barely think straight. “I want you…want you inside me. Fuck me, Dean. God, please, I **_need_** it.”

 

“Fuck, Sammy.”

 

Sam’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head when he saw Dean reached between his own legs with his free hand, giving his painfully hard cock a couple of slow, and from the looks of it, agonizingly good strokes.

 

“Dean, please, I need your cock so bad.”

 

Reaching out with his left hand, Sam cupped Dean’s balls as his brother gave himself another stroke, the younger boy gently brushing his thumb across the soft, simulated skin.

 

“Jesus, little brother, hearing you beg for my cock is going to be the death of me,” Dean teased, the younger boy letting out a little whine of protest when his brother carefully pushed his hand away.

 

“Need you to take care of me, Dean, please, need to feel you.”

 

Much to Sam’s dismay, Dean let go of his cock in favor of repositioning himself so that he was on his knees between his little brother’s legs which were stretched as wide as they could go. His muscles were aching, thighs trembling as he watched Dean slip his index, middle, and ring finger into his mouth and begin to suck feverishly; the obscene sounds his brother started to make causing Sam’s cock to twitch helplessly, his blood boiling in his veins.

 

Lifting up his head to get a better look, Sam watched his brother suck on his fingers, so good and thorough, like he was sucking a cock and getting paid for it; the younger boy completely at Dean’s mercy, unable to do anything but lay there and stare. And just when Sam thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Dean slipped his fingers out of his mouth, a rough, animalistic moan ripping from his little brother’s throat when he saw a string of saliva trailing from Dean’s lips to his fingertips.

 

“Alright Sam, I’m going to need you to relax as much as possible for this next part,” Dean purred, sounding completely wrecked as he reached down to circle the tip of his index finger around Sam’s warm, puckered hole.

 

Sam’s body was shaking but he managed to give Dean a quick nod, bearing down as his brother slowly pushed his finger inside him. The sensation was strange, but it didn’t necessarily hurt, which Sam thought was a plus, as Dean began to wiggle his finger around, opening him up.

 

“Talk to me, baby, you doing okay?”

 

Forcing himself to look at Dean, Sam’s heartbeat quickened when he noticed the way his brother’s expression had changed. He still had a hungry look in his eyes, like he wanted to devour Sam, ravish him until he was reduced to a useless heap of humanity; but now there was also a glint of concern visible on his handsome face that hadn’t been there before. Sam was mesmerized by that look, craved it, wanted portraits painted of it and hung in his bedroom. That look belong to him, no one else. It was a look of pure, unconditional love.

 

“I’m fine, Dean, it doesn’t hurt…just feels strange.”

 

Smirking, Dean gave Sam an understanding nod before curling his finger inward, massaging the tip against his prostate. Sam let out a surprised gasp in response, hips arching off the bed, pleasure surging throughout his body, snaking its way down his limbs to his fingertips and toes.

 

“Oh fuck, Dean! Do that again, please!”

 

Sam moan loudly when Dean pressed the pad of his finger against his sweet spot once more, rubbing the tiny bundle of nerves, making the younger boy’s toes curl for all the right reasons.

 

“Here comes the next step, Sammy. Just be easy, little brother,” Dean cooed, left hand stroking the inside of Sam’s thigh as he added a second finger.

 

The younger boy whimpered, feeling a dull ache spread across his lower half as Dean scissored his fingers; pain erupting into pleasure every time his brother hit his prostate.

 

“Dean! Please!”

 

Sam was dying, body flushed, sweat pouring off him as he clenched around Dean, moaning and begging while the older man fucked him with his fingers. He felt too hot, too full but needed so much more from Dean. And when his brother slipped a third finger inside him, his whole body convulsed, the younger boy desperately trying to remember how to breathe; head of his cock dark red and dripping pre-cum.

 

“Damn, baby boy, you’re taking my fingers so well,” Dean moaned as he thrust inside Sam, his little brother whimpering and writhing beneath him, clawing at the sheets.

 

“I’d take your cock even better if you’d just let me, big brother. Please, God!”

 

Dean let out a deep rumble of a sound, almost possessive as he slipped his fingers out of Sam, the younger boy yelling his name in protest. They were both panting, the sound of harsh, ragged breath filling the room; smell of sweat and sex heavy in the air as Dean licked a strip up his right palm before stroking his cock with it, getting himself as slick as possible. And once he was satisfied that he was wet enough, Dean inched forward, lifting Sam’s legs up, pushing his knees up toward his chest, resting the younger boy’s ankles on the tops of his shoulders.

 

Sam kept his eyes on his big brother as Dean lined his cock up with his entrance; the older man teasingly circling the slick head around Sam’s wet, stretched hole until he gave Dean a pair of puppy dog eyes that would have melted a glacier. Smiling affectionately, Dean maintained eye contact with him as he pushed in; eyes on his little brother as long as he could before he had to close them, pleasure washing over his beautiful face as he sank deeper and deeper.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean whispered when he bottomed out, hands tightly curled around Sam’s thighs. “Feels so good, baby boy. So tight and warm, love feeling this sexy little virgin ass of yours squeezing my cock.”

 

“Dean!”

 

The younger boy was shaking, all his senses on overdrive; Dean’s hot, thick cock filling him so full and making him **want**.

 

“What, baby? Tell me.”

 

“Need you to move, Dean, please, need it so bad.”

 

Obeying his brother’s wish, Dean pulled out of Sam almost completely before slowly pushing back in. The younger boy could feel every inch of his brother’s throbbing cock gliding in and out of his ass, nailing his prostate and sending sparks of pleasure up his spine as he picked up a steady rhythm.

 

“Oh God, feels so good, big brother. Love taking your cock,” Sam moaned, fingers curling around the back of Dean’s head, tugging at his tousled hair.

 

“Yeah, baby? Fucking desperate for it, weren’t you? The way you begged me to fuck you like a slut,” Dean growled, voice distorted and shaky with lust; digging bruises into the meaty flesh of Sam’s thighs, thrusts becoming sharper, deeper. “And now your just laying here taking my cock like a pro, all open and needy, my good little whore.”

 

Dean pushed Sam’s leg up further, knees pressing tightly against his chest as the older man began to fuck him brutally. He whimpered, both hands coming up to grip Dean’s back, feeling his brother’s muscles flexing underneath his fingernails; Sam clawing at the silky skin, blood and sweat causing him to lose his grip as Dean pounded into him, pleasure welling up inside him like he’d never felt before.

 

“D-ean, Jes-us, lo-ve y-ou so mu-ch,” Sam gasped as Dean wrapped a hand around his cock, jerking him off hard and fast, fucking his brother so hard Sam could have sworn the force made his teeth rattle.

 

“I know you do, baby boy, now come for me,” Dean commanded, voice white hot and just what Sam needed to push him over the edge.

 

“Dean! _Oh_ , yes!”

 

Sam arched his hips, orgasm spreading over his body like lava as he came so hard he blacked out momentarily, eyes rolling back, whole body going completely limp.

 

“Fucking hell, Sammy!”

 

When Sam came to, he felt Dean’s hips snap forward one last time, his brother’s whole body shuddering as he found his release; cum warm and slick inside Sam, the younger boy so full he could feel it seeping out of him, trickling down to his balls.

 

Pulling out of Sam, Dean carefully took his brother’s legs off his shoulders before rolling him onto his left side so that he was facing away from the older man.

 

“You were so fucking perfect, little brother,” Dean praised as he curled up behind Sam, wrapping his arm around his waist.

 

Dean’s stomach was slick and cool with Sam’s cum, but he couldn’t bother to care as he leaned back into his brother’s touch, too blissed out from his earth shattering orgasm to speak or move. And for a while, they stayed like that. Sam’s fingers laced with Dean’s, the two of them taking comfort in listening to the sound of the other’s breathing, feeling their heartbeats slowly return to normal.

 

It wasn’t until about ten minutes later, when a funny thought struck Sam that he broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between them with a giggle, burying his face in his pillow to muffle the sound.

 

“What’s so funny?” Dean wondered, propping himself up on his left elbow and resting his chin on Sam’s arm so he could peer down at the younger boy curiously.

 

“You just fucked me like a pirate would,” Sam replied huskily as he turned onto his back so Dean and he were eye to eye.

 

A sly smile spread across his big brother’s face in return, the older man leaning down to kiss him passionately.

 

“Not just any pirate, either, Sammy. I just fucked you like Captain Dean Winchester would.”

 

Sam’s cheeks flushed crimson, skin tingling with satisfaction as Dean kissed him again, slow and sensual; cock making a valiant effort to get hard again in spite of how utterly spent he felt.

 

“I fear that being given such a gift will leave me ruined though,” Sam gasped between hot, filthy open mouth kisses.

 

“How so, little brother?” Dean asked, managing to pull himself away from his little brother’s lips long enough to let him answer.

 

“This was merely a taste, and I wanted to consume you. You’ve given yet another reason to crave you, only for me to lose it all with the tide.”

 

“Sam,” the older man sighed, eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at his brother sympathetically.

 

“…Please don’t leave me again, Dean…I don’t think I can bare it.”

 

Sam ran his fingers through his brother’s hair, so overwhelmed with love for the man before him he thought he might burst.

 

“Sammy, that’s why I’m here, I don’t want us to be apart anymore…I’ve…I’ve come to ask you to sail with me.”

 

Siting up abruptly, Sam’s mouth fell open in shock as Dean mirrored his action, looking far more nervous than the younger boy had ever seen him as he waited for his little brother’s reply.

 

“…You- you mean it, Dean?”

 

“Of course I do, baby. I want you with me. Not only so I can keep you safe but so I can see you every day, talk to you every day, wake up with you by my side,” Dean told him in earnest. Taking a short pause before a wicked smile graced his pouty lips, causing Sam’s temperature to rise, “Besides, we both know that this sexy little body of yours belongs in my bed, naked and open, cock wet and rock hard waiting for me to do with you as I please.”

 

“Oh, is that so?” Sam mused, trying his best to sound indifferent. “And I’m sure that inflated ego of yours thinks I should jump at the opportunity to become Captain Dean Winchester’s whore?”

 

Licking his lips, Dean reached forward, pulling Sam on top of him so that the younger boy was straddling his hips; the pirate’s cock, much to Sam’s surprise, half-hard and pressed firmly against his sore ass.

 

“Earlier you begged me to take you like a bitch in heat and now you’re gonna get defiant?”

 

Blushing violently, Sam ducked his head, arms wrapped around Dean’s neck tightly as he nuzzled against the older man.

 

“…I wanna.”

 

“What was that, Sammy? I didn’t quite hear you.”

 

Dean’s hands were on Sam’s ass, kneading the smooth, bare flesh, fingertips periodically sliding over his hole, touch feather light; Sam’s cock starting to harden again, trapped between their stomachs.

 

“I want to be your whore,” Sam declared voice low and teasing, looking his brother straight in the eyes.

 

“Ask me nicely.”

 

“Please, Dean?”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Dean playfully swatted Sam on his left ass cheek, Sam moaning and bucking his hips in response; his reaction visibly riling Dean up even further. He could feel his brother’s fingers digging into his skin, caressing the marked, heated flesh and making Sam want to sink down on Dean’s cock and ride him into oblivion.

 

“Please, _Captain_?”

 

“ **Fuck**.”

 

Sam knew he had spoken the magic words when Dean crashed his lips into his, kissing him as though his life depended on it.

 

“Anything for you, Sammy. You can be anyone you want, I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go, I’ll buy you anything you desire. I just want you to be mine,” Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth, so desperate and passionate, and 100% real.

 

“I’m yours, Dean. I always have been, and I'm coming with you,” Sam replied sincerely before pressing his lips to Dean’s once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So, first things first, I have a killer headache today so proofreading this was a bitch. I am so sorry if there were more mistakes than usual. Also, there isn't much pirate-y stuff going on in this story but I apologize for any historical inaccuracies. I researched what I didn't know, but we all know how reliable the Internet can be. Lol


End file.
